Lonely Soul
by DigiExpert
Summary: Pain is a double-edged sword. It can hurt so much and not be relieved. Dreams assist the pain, twisting and tainting the original. She's caught in the middle, and no one quite knows the grief she's going through.


**Well, I do think I was possessed when I wrote this one. It got written in a little over an hour, and I found that I didn't want to distract myself so it got done pretty quickly. I'm off for a trip tomorrow as soon as I get rid of my students, and won't be back until Sunday, so no posting from me for awhile. I'll be heading to Tekkoshocon, and will try to write more when I have a chance. The idea for this fic came about when I started doing a rewatch of the series, and started writing down things I thought I might like to do fics for. I didn't get very far in my rewatch (only 1/3 of the way through), but I did end up with two fic ideas. This is one and I really love it. The idea behind it is so tragic and begged to be written more in depth. Do let me know what you think.**

**Lonely Soul**

Even in her dreams she couldn't escape; she was trapped and locked. She was unable to go forward, and unable to go back. You could never go back and rewrite the past. She dreaded waking and she dreaded sleeping, for she was never safe or far. Yet, did she want to be far from it? Did this pain, perhaps, connect her to the one she would never again have? Her fellow Sibyllae could not understand the grief she was suffering, and certainly not her father either.

She slept, tossing and turning, her dreams painting pictures from her memories. At first, they were harmless. She would fly and be flying. She could pray to the skies and not be bothered. In the sky, there was nothing between her and her beloved Tempus Spatium. Her mind and body became one, merging with her prayers. It was the dream that she loved and enjoyed. However, good dreams always come to an end.

As her flight ended, she stepped from the cockpit of the Simile, and ran a hand through her hair. There, waiting at the edge of the ship, was _her._ She couldn't be missed; her presence was commanding, but not cocky. She strode forward, a smile on her face. She took her hand, and kissed it gently before pulling the body toward her, and kissing the lips soundly.

Neviril couldn't help but melt into the embrace, surprising though it may be. Her eyes widened in shock; the girl was kissing her with more passion than was necessary for a ceremonial kiss between pairs. The girl pulled away, and Neviril could only stare at her, surprised.

"You must be Neviril," stated the girl, the sun streaming through her lavender hair. "I am Amuria. I will be your pair." It was not demanding or a command. It was as though Amuria knew it to be a simple fact.

Indeed, they became a pair, taking to the skies in the Simoun. Neviril prayed, yearning for the same connection. However, Amuria didn't believe in such things. She flew simply to fly, always trying to become more powerful, to become better as sagitta. They flew in the same sky, yet, they each saw different sky. Still, they were capable of helping the other grow.

Then the war began. To Amuria, every new flight was a chance for more power, to become better as a soldier, even though she was supposed to be a priestess. Prayer was strategy, tactics. They flew together, creating powerful Ri Majons. Neviril always flew at her best because she had Amuria's strength behind her.

Until that fateful day. It wasn't supposed to be more than a demonstration, but it became a battle field. Perhaps Amuria had known it would be their last day together as she kissed Neviril soundly. Neviril could never forget that kiss, or how it felt. Always taking the lead, Amuria had shown the passion and love she felt for her pair in that one soft kiss. Performing Ri Majon after Ri Majon, and deciding that the only way out was the Emerald.

Executing such a move had been flawless, done by the book. Then the enemy soldier flew in front of the Simoun, and Neviril had seen the eyes of the soldier, seeing the fear and imminent sense of death awaiting them. The soldier had known he was to die and yet, continued to his last moment. Neviril heard Amuria's screamed instructions, but she didn't process them. Pain, intense pain…wrong, wrong, wrong.

"_Amuria!"_

Perhaps if she reached through the pain… but all she found was herself, alone in her room, reaching for someone who wasn't there, and would never be there again. She lowered her hand as the realization sunk in and the tears began to fall. She was breathing heavily, and she could not control it. Not the dreams, not again. Not the dreams that twisted her memories and changed whatever they wanted. The changes somehow made things seem tainted, as though the original memories were never quite good enough to be left alone.

"_Amuria…Amuria…why did you have to go?"_

The sobs racked her body as the tears fell. She drew her knees in tightly as her hair fell around her face, hiding it from the world. She couldn't escape the grief and loss, and no one could understand how hard it was for her to function each day. How could she function when she was surrounded by memories of the girl she had loved? No one could soothe or take away the pain, and she could only distract herself for so long.

Why couldn't they understand? They hadn't known Amuria as she had, outside of her duties as a Sibylla. She was a fellow priestess and a comrade, but they hadn't known what it was like to be closer than that, so close that a simple touch could elicit pure joy. They didn't know what it was like to be held by someone determined to protect and cherish, wrapped tightly in an embrace that was returned just as lovingly.

She remembered the first kiss they had shared as something more than ceremony. It had been after one of the delegates' visits. Chor Tempest had been asked to pray to the sky in a show of faith for the country. They had performed the Dandelion Ri Majon, and then each of the priestesses had given blessings to those who had come to watch. After such a long day, they had returned wearily to their quarters. Neviril had been entering her room, when a hand had stopped her. She had looked up, surprised to find Amuria looking back at her.

Amuria had gently pushed her into the room, closing the door behind them. Neviril began to protest, but Amuria reached out and cupped Neviril's chin in her hand, pulling her closer. This time, when she kissed Neviril, Neviril relaxed against her, closing her eyes and kissing her back. They stayed that way for a few moments before Amuria had gently broken the kiss, and looked into her eyes. Neviril hadn't been sure what she seemed to be searching for. Amuria had leaned closer to her, her lips next to her ear before she knew it.

"_I love you, Neviril. We'll always fly together."_

Before she had been able to reply, Amuria had left, closing the door gently behind her. A fresh wave of tears fell, the realization of those words reminding her of her loss once more. Amuria was gone to her, gone forever. It was as though she'd lost her other half. She couldn't fly without her, couldn't make those words a lie. Not even Paraietta in her standing as a protector, could stop that from hurting her. Paraietta had promised to stand by her, and keep her safe, but how could she keep Neviril safe from a broken heart?

As was wont to happen, her sobs slowly softened, and her tears faded away. She had nothing left in her to cry, though the grief still remained. Her head ached, and her heart ached, and all she wanted was for the pain to go away. However, if it went away, did that mean that she would forget Amuria? No, she could never forget Amuria. She could never forget the one she had loved.

Her body lay back down, head easing onto the pillow. She stared at the canopy above, searching for something, anything that might lull her back to sleep and to the dreams she did not want to face. If she stayed up, she might only be faced with the grief. She closed her eyes, picturing someone to hold her, someone that could soothe the pain. She felt the strands of hair framing tickling her skin as though they were real, felt the strong arms around her body. It was the hold she remembered so well. Whenever she was embraced within it, she had felt more powerful, as though it transferred strength to her.

She soon drifted off to sleep with that knowledge. As her eyes closed, the first rays of sunrise splashed against her window, coloring the room in its vivid hues. On that morning, the sunrise was streaked with lavender, as though it was made especially for her, as though someone had saw her in pain, and had wanted to paint a canvas of calmness.


End file.
